I’ve been on my writing everyday adventure for a week. A week and 2 days, to be exact. And things are starting to get interesting.
Originally, I gave myself this daily challenge to face down my discouraging writer’s block. To get some much-needed flow coursing back through my creativity and my life. Check! Writer’s block dispelled and flow activated.
As a person who loves external validation, your comments and support are not only soothing my insecurities but validating my hopes to communicate something meaningful and make some authentic connections. I am moved by your brave comments. By your stepping into a conversation vulnerably and creating honest moments. I am delighted to rekindle some old friendships with those of you who reached out. Be plucky! Take one more step and let’s get out our calendars.
Flickers of Fear
Then over the weekend I began obsessing about the “likes” and “comments” I was getting, or not getting. That familiar flicker of fear nudging me toward concern about them tapering off. I had to take many pauses to remind myself that this endeavor is also for me. For me to dig down and hopefully uncover something deep in myself that hasn’t yet seen the light of day. For me to face down my hesitancies and insecurities. To find my own voice and the courage to use it. Plus, being a lifelong people-pleaser in recovery means I need to learn to do things for me and accept that not everyone is going to like, comment, or even care.
A Dense Forest
And now this path is starting to curve, and I can see the dense forest coming into view. This is the part where things start to go deeper. More effort must be applied. Great patience and gentleness offered. Discipline activated. I was feeling lazy this morning and thought to repost something I had written years ago. Not exactly staying on the Writing Everyday path, but I hung in there and started to type.
Speaking of the dense forest coming into my view, this is a landscape in my mind that avails itself to me when I’m waiting on change. Sometimes I have sat in my field at the edge of the forest and just stared into it, expectant, patient, waiting. Other times I have been so sick of the waiting and patience that I just charge straight in. It is always a little bit different. Sometimes the trees are close, and I can hardly move around. Sometimes there is a slight indentation of a path that leads to a clearing. Sometimes there is the purest, blackest darkness that used to utterly terrify me. But now I know this is the space of raw creativity. When I have the courage to settle and wait there, big revelations come and there is exciting movement forward for me.
This time, though, from my vantage point of one week and 2 days of writing everyday, the path through the forest is a river. This is new terrain for me. Less pushing and striving. More flowing. And so, I know exactly what to do: Wade in to the deep part, and float~
If you need to wait, or hate waiting, if you are a people-pleaser, or want an honest moment, let’s be friends~